


Love, Hate, and Everything Else

by nimbus2003



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 11:40:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25969036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimbus2003/pseuds/nimbus2003
Summary: A collection of Tomione Drabbles, written in advance of my next fanfic. Accepting prompts of all kinds in order to get to know my characters better. Please, suggest an idea! Responses will be short — 500 words or less, unless the prompt gets the better of me!
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle
Comments: 12
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

Hello,

I’ve begun work on my next fanfic. It’s going to reimagine Tom and Hermione as American politicians. In advance of that, I thought it would be fun to ask some of my lovely readers for prompts. I figure we’ll both get something out of it — I’ll get a spontaneous chance to study my characters. In return, you’ll get to see your prompts brought to life. I can’t promise to answer them all (until I have an idea of the volume), but I’ll keep everyone updated. If there’s a large volume, I don’t want to let anyone down, so I’ll try to keep doing this even as I am publishing my next work. 

To participate, please comment a prompt! It can be a line of dialogue for a character, a situation or plot, a song, or something else. It doesn’t have to be related to politics at all. This is just about the essential personalities of the characters. 

I’ll respond in a (hopefully) timely manner, with something around 500 words. Sometimes less, sometimes more. I hope that sounds good!!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I know I've been gone for awhile, so I'm easing myself back in. This is 1/3 prompts I have in the pipeline for this ongoing one-shot project. 
> 
> I'm hoping to post the first chapter of my next long fic this weekend. Sorry for the delay and thank you so much for bearing with me! It's been a difficult couple of months, and I didn't want to start a new project until I was confident of my ability to update regularly. 
> 
> If you have a Tomione prompt you want fulfilled, please leave it as a comment on this fic! It's really fun for me to do character studies and it helps me write better chapter fics. Plus, you get to see the prompt come to life!

**PROMPT**

**TR: "You haven’t asked me if I regret it."**

**HG: “You’re right. I just assume you don’t."**

**Tags: Time Travel AU, Angst, BAMF Hermione**

The hallways were empty, but cheerful. The staff did their best to decorate, trying to create a sense of holiday cheer for the students left behind at Hogwarts. For most, it worked. Hermione, though, was beyond cheering up. She was stranded in 1944, trying to complete a fool’s errand. 

It had almost worked, too, she mused. That was the worst part. For a few, radiant months, she’d believed that Tom Riddle had a heart. That he could love her. 

Worst of all, that she could love him. 

Hermione picked up a book, determined to distract herself from reality. It didn’t help. No matter what she did, she was stuck in that hallway, hearing Riddle rage about her blood status and her mysterious past. 

“Hermione?” 

She jumped, startled by the intrusion. When she came to her senses, she saw Gabriel Prewet standing in front of her. “There’s someone here to see you,” he said. 

Hermione leaned back, retreating into the armchair. “I don’t think so, Gabe. I’m not expecting company.” 

Gabe shifted his weight, looking guilty. “I know you aren’t.” He bit his lip, choosing his next words carefully. “Listen, Hermione, if you don’t want to see him, I’ll send him away. But it’s Riddle. He’s demanding to see you.” 

Hermione grabbed her wand. “That  _ bastard _ .” 

Gabe flinched. Even he, bravest of the Gryffindors, wasn’t immune to Hermione’s wrath. “Don’t kill him, alright? That would create an awful lot of paperwork.” 

Hermione nodded, only vaguely listening. She stormed out of the Common Room, grabbed Tom by his collar, and threw him into the nearest empty classroom. 

Tom straightened his jacket, unperturbed. “You know, if you wanted it rough, you could’ve just asked.” When Hermione didn’t respond, he shrugged. “Or not. I suppose there’s something to be said for spontaneity.” 

Hermione’s lip twitched. “I knew it.” She leaned back, relying on the wall for support. “God, for a second, I thought you were sorry.” 

Tom’s brows knit. “I am sorry. That’s why I’m here.” 

“Fuck off,” Hermione demanded. “You don’t care about me. You probably realized there was some part of your future you failed to rip from my mind when you  _ viciously attacked me--” _

“I would never have hurt you!” Tom shouted, allowing his collected mask to fall away. He took a step towards her. “I just needed to know--”

Hermione slapped him, furious. Tom didn’t move an inch, despite the red welt she’d left behind. “Don’t lie to me,” she demanded, choking down a sob. “You would hurt me if you had to.” 

Tom rolled his neck, trying to calm himself. “You know,” he said, “you haven’t asked me if I regret it.” 

“You’re right,” she replied. “I just assume you don’t. Because  if you cared about me at all, you wouldn’t have attacked me in the first place.” She stepped towards the door, ready to leave. 

Tom’s hand shot out, grabbing her and pushing her against the wall. 

“Christ,” he said. “You’re a nightmare, you know that?” When she didn’t respond, Tom took a deep breath. He ran one hand through his hair, trying to calm himself. The other remained firmly against the wall, blocking the exit. 

After a second, he looked her in the eye. “I love you.” 

Hermione kicked him.

“Jesus,” he yelled, anger simmering below the surface. "I came here to apologize, all right? To tell you that I’ll do things your way. No wars, no Death Eaters. I’ll run for Minister.” When Hermione didn’t try to kick him again, Tom dared to take a step closer. “I want you to do it with me.”

Hermione looked up at him, dubious. Sensing no lie in his face, though, she closed the gap between them. “You should’ve led with that,” she whispered, grabbing his tie and pulling him in for a kiss. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two uploads from me? In one day? It must be a miracle! I've never been productive enough to update two things at once before, but here we are!
> 
> I wrote these two prompts on a similar topic, so I'm putting them together! One is more serious, and one is just fun. Hope you enjoy! One more in the pipeline currently as a request. I should get to it soon.

**PROMPT:**

**Vulnerable Tom, Strong Hermione**

Tom moved slowly, careful not to wake the child in his arms. 

“Sleep well,” he whispered. As if in response, the baby gurgled. 

The light in the hallway switched on. Tom frowned. He’d hoped that Hermione could catch up on sleep. And, if he was being honest, he’d wanted a moment alone with their daughter. 

“How is she?” Hermione asked, stepping over various toys. 

Tom stared at the baby, taking in every detail. She had his eyes. There was no mistaking it. His hair, too. It was dark and smooth, in sharp contrast to Hermione’s wild curls. 

Tom blinked, drawing himself back to reality. “She’s good. I know she has to learn how to sleep through the night on her own, but.” Tom paused, swallowing a crack in his voice. “I couldn’t let her feel abandoned.” 

It was the closest Tom had ever come to referencing his own childhood. Hermione stepped forward, careful not to wake the baby. “Tom,” she whispered, trying not to disturb the moment. “We don’t have to leave her.” 

“We don’t?” Tom replied, raising his gaze to meet Hermione’s. 

She shook her head, pressing a kiss to his chest. “No. We don’t.” A quiet laugh crossed her lips. “She’s our daughter. I’m sure she’s smart enough to figure out sleeping.” 

Tom nodded, clearly relieved. Hermione didn’t mention it, but she saw a single tear escape his eye. “Parenthood is difficult,” she said, voice gentle. “It brings back memories we’d rather forget.” 

“He left,” Tom whispered. “How could he leave?” 

Hermione frowned, sensing Tom’s anguish. There were some wounds she’d never be able to heal, some suffering she’d never be able to spare him. Seeing nothing else to say, she laid a hand on Tom's shoulder. “Your father didn’t deserve you.” 

“No,” Tom said bitterly, a hint of the monster inside creeping out. “He didn’t.” 

**PROMPT:**

**Super couple but manifested in a super mundane context**

**(For any non-American friends: the PTA is a parent organization that helps support teachers at a given school. Parents often get really heated about it.)**

Tom and Hermione Riddle  _ ruled _ the PTA. 

No one knew how, or why. They were elected to the Board, like any other parents. Then, at some point, they started impeaching their rivals. At first, it was for little things. Ellen forgot to bring cupcakes to the bake sale. Harvey lied to Tom about a fundraiser. 

As time went on, though, it escalated. Roy was indicted by the DA for tax evasion. The other parents couldn’t prove it, but they were certain that Tom had framed him. 

Parent to parent, an unspoken rule was passed around:  Don’t fuck with the Riddles. 

Despite their infamy, though, the Riddles remained popular. They were impossible to hate. If anything, they were aspirational. 

Tom and Hermione both worked. In fact, they worked together. It was disgustingly adorable. They ran the US’s most elite lobbying firm, and they did it without breaking a sweat. 

Despite their ungodly income, they kept their daughter in public school. (“We want her to be normal,” Hermione often said. “Tom and I both fought our way up. She shouldn’t have any advantages.”) 

They were generous with their time, and happy to help out friends in need. They planned a mean dinner party. No one knew for sure, but everyone was somehow certain they had great sex. 

Then there was the daughter. She’d skipped two grades, won every science fair, and placed in the National Spelling Bee.

That was the Riddles. Perfect, infuriating, and unshakable. 


End file.
